


say my name and i'll lie in the sound

by oftirnanog



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Ronan, Boys In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftirnanog/pseuds/oftirnanog
Summary: It’s almost too much, Ronan splayed out in front of him, all hard lines and sharp angles, his fingers trailing up and down Adam’s ribs like he’s something to be treated with care, not fragile, but deserving of softness.---Or the first time Ronan and Adam have anal sex. That's it. It's just smut. Fluff and smut and awkward boys with awkward feelings. Adam POV.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Trespassers William's "Lie In The Sound"

Ronan’s head rests on Adam’s stomach, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin of Adam’s hip. Their breathing has returned to normal, but everything in Adam still feels electric. He’s grounded by the tapping of Ronan’s fingers, switching from the gentle circles, to something more insistent, more frenetic.

            “I can hear you thinking from up here,” Adam says, letting some of his Henrietta accent slip into the words. He’s too languid and comfortable to care. Plus he’s pretty sure Ronan likes it.

            Ronan doesn’t say anything, but his fingers still on Adam’s hip.

            “What is it?” Adam asks.

            Ronan swallows. His fingers start tapping again, which is how Adam knows that he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

            “You just had my dick in your mouth but you can’t say what’s on your mind?”

            Ronan huffs a laugh at that and tilts his head back to meet Adam’s gaze.

            “I was thinking maybe next time your dick could be somewhere else,” Ronan says, his tone filthy and his mouth smirking. Only his heartbeat, rapid against the skin of Adam’s thigh, belies how nervous he is voicing that suggestion.

            Adam’s breath catches in his throat and his dick gives an interested twitch. “Yeah?” he asks, aiming for casual and failing.

            Ronan presses his face into Adam’s stomach. He mumbles, “If you want,” against the skin there, aiming for casual and failing rather more.

            Adam grins wide enough that his face hurts.

            “Get up here,” he says, tugging at Ronan’s shoulder so that he pushes himself further up the bed until they’re face to face. “Of course I want to.”

            “Yeah?” Ronan asks, his breath catching. His eyes drop down, away from Adam’s, like he might be ashamed of such a desire, and Adam surges forward to catch his lips in a kiss.

            “God yes,” Adam says, breathing the words into Ronan’s mouth.

            Ronan swallows again. “Okay,” he says, and buries his shaky exhale in Adam’s throat.

 

Adam drives to the Barns later that week. He stopped for condoms and lube on his way and now they sit innocuously on the passenger seat inside a plastic shopping bag as though they’re not one of the most significant purchases Adam has ever made. He keeps glancing over at it.

His hands are clammy on the steering wheel, nerves thrumming in anticipation. He wonders if Ronan is also this nervous. He hopes he is.

            When Ronan lets him inside he looks the same as always, except he’s wearing grey sweats instead of jeans with his black tank top. Possibly he’s freshly shaven. Adam’s mouth quirks in a small smile and though nerves still flutter in his stomach he’s distinctly calmer just seeing Ronan.

            “Hey,” Ronan says, letting Adam into the front hall. His eyes drop to the bag in Adam’s hand and he runs a hand over the back of his neck.

            They both hesitate for half a second and then Ronan steps forward and kisses Adam, both hands coming to his hips to pull him forward. Adam grins into the kiss and wraps his arms around Ronan’s shoulders. The bag bounces against Ronan’s back. Ronan’s hands slide to the small of Adam’s back and Adam arches up into him, the anticipation of what they’re about to do making him more desperate than usual. Adam’s half hard already, just from this, making out in the front hall and Ronan’s hands on him. Adam catches Ronan’s bottom lip between his teeth and Ronan lets out a cut off moan.

            “Jesus,” Ronan whispers, breathing the word into Adam’s mouth.

            He’s shaking a bit, so Adam kisses him again, softly this time, chaste and gentle and steadying. He soothes a hand across Ronan’s shoulders and neck and comes to rest it on his chest. The plastic bag is still dangling from his other hand, not forgotten, but no longer the center of attention.

            “Did you cook?” Adam asks, noticing for the first time since walking through the door a warm scent like cooking onions and spices.

            “Yeah,” Ronan replies, as though this should have been a given.

            “You cooked?” Adam repeats, still not quite able to believe it.

            “I can cook, Parrish,” Ronan says, an edge of defensiveness in his voice. “We said we’d have dinner, didn’t we?”

            “I thought you were going to order a pizza,” Adam says. They never cook. He didn’t know Ronan _could_ cook.

            Ronan makes a derisive noise and his hands slide possessively up under Adam’s shirt and over the skin of his lower back. Adam tries to keep from grinning too widely, but from the pleased look on Ronan’s face he knows he doesn’t manage it.

            “What did you make?” Adam asks, still grinning.

            “Stew,” he says. Like he does this all the time.

            Adam’s grin grows impossibly wider.

            “Ronan Lynch,” Adam says. It comes out much softer than he intended.

            “No need to sound so surprised,” Ronan says.

            “Yeah, there is,” Adam insists. He drags his hand further down Ronan’s chest, letting his fingers drag over his nipple. Ronan’s hips twitch forward involuntarily and his fingers dig into Adam’s skin.

            Adam would happily skip dinner and get right to it, but his stomach growls traitorously and he’s forced to admit he’s hungry. Ronan pulls back and smirks at him and then drags him into the kitchen by his t-shirt.

            They eat the stew right out of the pot over the stove because Ronan insisted on trying it to make sure it was done and then insisted that Adam try some and the whole thing devolved from there. Adam figures it means fewer dishes, which Ronan grudgingly accepts as reasonable.

            They take longer cleaning up than is strictly necessary, casting furtive glances at one another all the while. It’s ridiculous, but Adam is nervous all over again. Ronan must be as well because he’s been drying the same pot for almost a full minute now. Adam takes the pot and the towel from Ronan’s hands and places them on the counter. Ronan arches an eyebrow him. All confidence. All posturing.

            And Adam kisses him. Ronan responds with a surprised grunt and slides his hands in the back pockets of Adam’s jeans to keep him close. Adam runs his fingers under the hem of Ronan’s shirt, brushing lightly against his skin and Ronan jumps a bit at the contact, the sudden cold of Adam’s fingers. He kisses Adam soundly, all tongue and a bit of teeth, hands kneading Adam’s ass. Adam groans and gasps and he can feel Ronan’s smirk against his mouth.

            They should probably take this upstairs, but Adam can’t help teasing, so he slips a hand down the back of Ronan’s sweats, unsurprised to find him not wearing underwear, and then dips a finger to slide over his hole. Then it’s Ronan’s turn to gasp and drops his head to Adam’s shoulder, pressing his face to Adam’s neck like he’s embarrassed by how much he enjoys this. He keeps Adam close and presses his lips to Adam’s collarbone. Adam could fall apart under the gentleness of it.

            “We don’t have to do this tonight, you know?” Adam says, because it needs to be said and he wants to make sure that Ronan is sure.

            Ronan pulls back and frowns at him. “Why the fuck not?” he demands. Then something insecure flits across his face and he ducks his head again. “Unless you don’t want to anymore.”

            “Oh, I want to,” Adam assures him, pressing the words to Ronan’s ear, wanting to dispel that look from Ronan’s face forever. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

            He presses his finger more insistently this time, dragging over puckered skin.

            “Fuck,” Ronan breathes, a blush climbing up his neck to his cheeks. “We’re definitely on the same page,” he says, a bit shaky, but always truthful.

            “I guess we should take this upstairs then,” Adam says, voice quiet, still circling his finger over Ronan, altering the pressure.

            Ronan’s hips twitch like they’re not sure which direction they want to be going, but Adam can feel that he’s hard.

            “Jesus Christ, Adam.”

            Adam smirks and removes his hand from Ronan’s pants. He grabs his wrist and drags him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

            When they reach Ronan’s bedroom, Ronan crowds Adam against the wall and kisses him deep and filthy, hips grinding into him. Adam responds by arching against him. They’ve done a lot of this, kissing and rutting and hand jobs and blow jobs. Every time Adam can’t believe it’s real, that he gets to have Ronan like this, that Ronan wants him back. It’s not an insecurity, not anymore, just surprise that anything like this exists in the world, this kind of worshipful hunger that is somehow wrapped around intimacy and affection. Just eight months ago Adam wouldn’t have believed it was real let alone that it could ever be his.

            Ronan pulls Adam’s t-shirt over his head and then pulls off his own tank top. Adam uses his momentary distraction to his advantage and turns them so Ronan is against the wall. He licks over Ronan’s nipples, grinning at the soft thunk of Ronan’s head falling back against the wall. Then he moves lower, mouthing over the hard planes of Ronan’s stomach, licking at the indentations of his pelvis. He tugs Ronan’s sweats down and immediately takes him in his mouth. Ronan’s hand goes to Adam’s head, not to push, but to tangle in his hair, to tug in the way he knows Adam likes.

            Adam is uncomfortably hard in his jeans, but he hadn’t thought to take them off before going down on Ronan, just that he wanted to get Ronan fully hard for this.

            “Adam, shit,” Ronan says. “Adam.”

            He tugs on Adam’s hair a bit harder, other hand scrabbling at his shoulder and Adam realizes he needs him to stop. Adam lets Ronan go with a slick obscene noise and looks up at him. Ronan grabs Adam’s arm and pulls him to standing, then he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. He bucks his hips and makes a noise of frustration.

            “Why are you still wearing pants?” he growls, hands working at Adam’s button and zipper, pushing the denim down Adam’s legs.

            They trip their way out of their pants on the way to the bed, narrowly avoid slamming their foreheads together in the process. Adam ends up on top between the V of Ronan’s legs. It’s almost too much, Ronan splayed out in front of him, all hard lines and sharp angles, his fingers trailing up and down Adam’s ribs like he’s something to be treated with care, not fragile, but deserving of softness. Adam shivers. He kisses Ronan again, and it’s a slightly calmer thing. Not as harried and desperate. More purposeful.

            “Do you…” Adam starts. He sits back on his heels, regarding the miracle that is Ronan Lynch. “It’ll probably be easier if you’re on your hands and knees,” he says eventually. There is no getting around the mechanics of the thing.

            Ronan shakes his head though. “I want to look at you,” he says. Like a statement of fact rather than a confession. Something hitches in Adam’s chest and he can’t help running his hand over Ronan’s thigh.

            “Okay,” Adam says. He grabs one of the pillows on the bed and folds it in half. “Up,” he says, tapping Ronan’s hip to get him to lift so he can slide the pillow under for better leverage. Ronan complies and lets Adam adjust the pillow. He doesn’t take his eyes off him. Adam is nearly overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. He has to lean over and kiss him again. Ronan’s hands jump immediately back to his ribs and he hooks one of his legs over Adam’s.

            Adam pulls back reluctantly, but not before placing another kiss at the hollow of Ronan’s throat. Ronan’s throat bobs against Adam’s nose as he swallows.

            Without thinking about it too hard, Adam grabs the shopping bag of supplies off the bedside table and dumps them on the bed. The lube makes a clinical popping noise when he opens it. He pauses as he’s about to squeeze some out.

            “Do you want me to do this or do you want to do it?” he asks.

            “I want you to do it,” Ronan says. Again with the same matter-of-factness, but this time there is a blush creeping up his chest and colouring his cheeks.

            Adam smiles and lifts one of Ronan’s legs to hook over his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the inside of his thigh and then squeezes some lube onto his fingers.

            It’s too much and it drips onto Ronan’s skin, making him flinch.

            “Sorry,” Adam says.

            Ronan just shakes his head. He’s watching Adam’s fingers, now slicked with lube. Adam’s heart is pounding so hard he thinks Ronan must be able to hear it. It feels like it’s about to explode right through his ribcage. He can feel it pumping through his entire body, a rabbiting thrum that’s causing him to tremble a bit. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t clear that Ronan is just as undone, chest rising and falling under heaving breaths.

            Adam presses a finger to Ronan’s entrance.

            It was one thing to tease over the hole earlier when he had no immediate intention of going further, but now, as he presses more firmly, inching past the ring of muscle, Adam wonders how his skin is able to contain him. He’s achingly hard and Ronan’s dick is twitching against his stomach. He’s not sure how he’s going to last.

            The first thing Adam thinks when he slides his finger all the way in is that it’s much hotter than he’d been expecting. The second is that he didn’t meet much resistance, so Ronan must have done this to himself at some point. The thought has Adam’s breath catching in his chest. Ronan rocks against him.

            “C’mon, Parrish,” he says. So Adam starts moving his finger, in and out, dragging experimentally against Ronan’s insides.

            Ronan arches and huffs out a gasp.

            “You can—” Ronan cuts off as Adam uses a second finger to trace around his hole. “Yeah, another.”  

            There’s more resistance this time. Adam works his second finger in slowly, rubs his other hand soothingly over Ronan’s thigh, and gently scissors his fingers. Ronan lets out a hiss that sounds more like pain than pleasure and Adam stops.

            “You okay?” he asks.

            Ronan nods, but he’s taking deliberate controlled breaths like someone working through extreme discomfort. Adam starts to slide his fingers out and Ronan grabs his forearm to stop him.

            “No, keep going,” he insists. “It’s getting better. I just have to get used to it.”

            Adam frowns. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

            “Takes a lot more than a couple finger up my ass to hurt me,” Ronan replies with a smile like a dagger’s edge, which means he’s adjusting.

            Adam rolls his eyes and mutters, “Idiot,” before turning his attention to Ronan’s flagging erection. He bends and drags his tongue along his dick from base to tip and then wraps his mouth around him. Ronan’s entire body twitches and he lets out a string of curse words that Adam can’t quite make out. He starts moving his fingers again, slowly, moving in time with the bobbing of his head. Ronan is making noises he’s never heard before. It goes straight to his dick and Adam thinks he could get off just from this, just from making Ronan gasp his name in the midst of his swearing like it’s something holy.

            Adam tongues along Ronan’s slit and Ronan makes a sound like choking on a sob causing Adam to cant his eyes upward so he can look at him. It nearly unravels him. His face and chest are flushed, glowing under a sheen of sweat, and his body is all hard lines and soft planes, a landscape of pale skin. Blue eyes locked on his, dark lashes swooping over them, ravens wings across a clear sky. Adam lets Ronan go with a slick sound, eases Ronan’s leg off his shoulder, and moves up his body so that he can kiss him. It changes the angle of his fingers just enough that he presses against something he hadn’t before. If he thought the sounds Ronan was making before were unholy, this is something else entirely. His entire body bows off the bed and he keens.

            “Jesus Mary holy fucking shit,” Ronan breathes when his body settles.

            Adam curls his fingers experimentally and Ronan cries out again, eyes clenched shut under the intensity of it, hands fisted in the sheets so tightly Adam thinks he might rip them.

            “Adam,” he says, plaintive and worshipful all at once.

            “Good?” Adam asks even though he knows the answer. He grins and it could’ve been a smirk, but it’s not. It’s too genuine.

            “Holy mother of fuck,” Ronan replies.

            Adam does kiss him then, almost aggressively with his need to get closer to him. He curls his fingers again and Ronan moans into his mouth. He can’t believe he has Ronan Lynch laid so bare beneath him. It might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

            “Adam,” Ronan says. There’s an urgency to it this time, a desperate edge. “Adam you—” He shivers. “You need to stop or I’m not going to last.”

            “Oh,” Adam breathes, suddenly understanding the desperation in his voice. His dick twitches insistently against his stomach. “Hold on,” he says, pulling back again. He slides a third finger alongside the other two, somehow meeting less resistance than he had with the second finger.

            “You ready?” he asks when he thinks Ronan’s stretched enough.

            Ronan just nods and swallows, eyes still reverent as they watch Adam.

            Adam pulls his fingers out as gently as he can but Ronan still makes a noise of protest. He instinctively presses his lips to the inside of Ronan’s thigh and feels like a promise.

            He struggles getting the condom on and it’s embarrassing. But Ronan just keeps his eyes on his face, raising himself on one elbow so he can reach to trail his fingers over Adam’s bicep. When he’s finally ready, Adam leans over to kiss him again and Ronan lets himself fall back against the pillow, cups his hand around Adam’s neck gently and protectively. _Safe,_ Adam thinks.

            Then he lines himself up and starts to push in.

            He meets more resistance than he was expecting to after all the stretching and for a moment it feels impossible. Ronan’s breath hitches and Adam almost stops, but then the muscle gives way and he slides in until he bottoms out.

            It’s a barrage of sensations that boil down to tight heat, so much tighter than Adam ever could have imagined. It’s even more overwhelming than Ronan’s mouth had been that first time he went down on him, all slick heat and purposeful tongue. It’s so much more than that. Adam feels _absorbed_. He also recognizes that it’s going to be over too fast. He holds himself as still as he can as he tries to regain control, but then Ronan rocks his hips and Adam’s hitch forward in response.

            “Shit,” he groans. “Oh fuck.”

            “Too much for you, Parrish,” Ronan goads him, rolling his hips again, but his voice is wrecked and Adam knows it won’t take much to send him over the edge either.

            Adam readjusts, anchoring one hand on the bed for leverage, and gives another thrust. Ronan swears and his hands go to Adam’s ribs, scrabbling for purchase. Still teetering on the edge, Adam uses the hand that’s not pressed into the mattress to wrap around Ronan’s dick. He jerks him harder and faster than he normally would because he wants him to finish first and he’s only barely hanging on. He tries to fall into a rhythm, but he’s too overwhelmed and he ends up bucking awkwardly out of time with his strokes. Ronan doesn’t seem to notice or care about the disjointedness.

            “Oh Jesus,” Ronan says. “Adam.” His fingers are digging into his skin, probably leaving bruises that’ll he be both proud of and guilty for later. “Adam,” he says again, a warning this time, and then he’s coming, spilling over Adam’s hand onto his stomach, and clenching, clenching, clenching around Adam’s dick. Adam makes a surprised noise like a vocalised gasp and his entire body tremors as the waves of his orgasm rock through him.

            It feels like an eternity before Adam can make his limbs move again. He’s collapsed on top of Ronan, who is alternately tickling his fingers over Adam’s back and pressing him palms flat against his skin like he’s trying to touch as much of Adam as he can. Adam can feel his softening dick sliding out of Ronan and he presses his face to Ronan’s neck to counter the separation. He stays there for another beat and then pushes himself up on his arms to look at Ronan. And Ronan kisses him and kisses him and twitches his hips forward as though that might keep Adam inside him, but in fact has the opposite effect. He makes a displeased noise but keeps kissing him. Adam kisses him back until the condom becomes so uncomfortable he can no longer ignore it. With one more kiss Adam rolls off of Ronan and peels off the condom. It’s messier than he thought it would be and he probably should have just done it in the bathroom, but Ronan is still trailing his hands all over Adam’s body, and Adam is having trouble pulling himself away from that, no matter how temporary it’s going to be.

            “I’ll be right back,” he says finally, using his clean hand to bring Ronan’s to his mouth and lay a kiss on his palm.

            Ronan lets his hand fall when Adam lets it go, but he grunts in protest.

            Adam glances back and raises an eyebrow at him. Ronan smiles, true and unguarded and Adam almost stutters to a stop, almost doubles back, dirty condom be damned.

            In the bathroom Adam disposes of the condom and cleans himself up. Then he grabs a wash cloth and runs it under warm water to bring back to Ronan.

            When Adam walks back into the bedroom, Ronan gives him an appreciative once over. It’s only then that he remembers he’s still naked, which is strange in itself. He’d never imagine this level of comfort with another person. He didn’t believe it was possible.

            “Here,” Adam says. He’s about to toss the wash cloth on Ronan’s stomach, dismissive and distancing, but at the last moment he changes his mind and runs the cloth over his stomach himself. Ronan just watches him with a wondering expression. Adam feels more exposed than he has all evening.

            Adam drops the used cloth on the bedside table and then just sits on the edge of the mattress staring at Ronan.

            “C’mere,” Ronan says eventually, and tugs Adam down, hooking an arm around his shoulders so that Adam nestles into Ronan’s chest.

            Adam shifts until it’s comfortable, cheek pressed against Ronan’s skin near the thump of his heart, arm across his waist, one leg draped over Ronan’s.

            “I fucking love you, you know that?” Adam says. Mumbles it really. A quiet thing.

            Ronan stills beneath him, like if he moves he’ll shatter the moment and find he dreamed the whole thing. Adam turns his head to kiss his chest. Ronan relaxes then and presses his lips to the top of Adam’s head.

            “I know,” he says, the words getting tangled in Adam’s hair. “I love you, too, you know.”

            “I know,” Adam replies.

            “Okay,” Ronan says.

            “I’m going to fall asleep now,” Adam says.

            “Okay,” Ronan says.

            And Adam does.

When he wakes, Ronan is curved along his back and the pillows are dusted with the petals of strange blue flowers.


End file.
